


Division Symbols

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Distance [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chicago, Cora's Pack, M/M, Rogue Hunters, Wolfsbane Poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: "It's unusual to form a bond that strong with bitten werewolves," Cora's alpha said. 
"Stiles isn't a werewolf." Cora revved the engine impatiently. "He's human."
Henry frowned. "That...shouldn't be possible."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of Space. Hope you like it :)

He felt the shift in the air one night in the spring almost a year later, one that took his breath away and sent him scrambling to hold onto something more solid than himself. His claws gouged into the wooden dresser in his bedroom and he fought down panic, trying so hard not to make a sound and wake Cora in the next room over. But then his gut wrenched and he collapsed, letting out a whine that grated in his throat as it slipped out.

 

The bedroom door slammed open seconds later as Cora rushed inside, eyes glowing. “Derek?” she dropped to her knees beside him on the floor, trying to determine where he was hurt. “Derek, what is it? What’s wrong?”

 

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek groaned, and Cora reached for the phone.

 

**

 

Cora insisted on driving him to the airport. “If you’re feeling what Stiles is feeling right now and he gets hurt, you could wreck.”

 

“Your bond to him must be incredibly strong,” her alpha, Henry, said thoughtfully as he helped Derek into Cora’s car.

 

“Bond?” Derek panted.

 

“Pack bond,” Henry clarified. “It’s unusual in bitten wolves, to form a bond that strong with another pack member.”

 

“Stiles isn’t a werewolf,” Cora said, turning the key over and revving the engine a little, as if to make a point. Derek was grateful for her impatience to get him where he needed to be. “He’s human.”

 

Henry frowned. “But that’s…that’s not possible. Not unless…” He trailed off, eyes widening.

 

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Derek ground out. “I appreciated it, but I have to go home.” _Home._ Beacon Hills would probably always be home.

 

Henry nodded once, and Cora sped off toward the airport. Derek let his head loll back against the seat as his limbs slowly stiffened with what felt like poison spreading through his veins. “Cora, _hurry,”_ he growled.

 

Her eyes narrowed and she accelerated.

 

**

 

Sheriff Stilinski met him at an airport in Chicago, where Scott had instructed Derek to go. “Scott said you could feel Stiles,” he said urgently. “Do you…is he…?”

 

“Alive,” Derek said through gritted teeth. The stiffness had left his limbs, but it felt like needles were pricking him all over relentlessly, and he _hurt._ “Sheriff, we need to _go_.”

 

Sheriff Stilinski navigated his way out of the crowded parking lot with surprising ease and sped off in the direction of the rising sun. “He went to school here because Scott told him to leave,” he was saying. “Told him it wasn’t safe and that he could still get out, that he didn’t have to live like this. Said the same thing to Lydia, but she and Deputy Parrish, you remember him, they’ve got something. But Stiles…something happened between him and Scott. He never told me what.”

 

“Scott is a true alpha,” Derek snarled, suddenly furious. “Stiles has been associated with him for years, he had to know that Stiles wasn’t going to be safe just because he sent him halfway across the country. What the hell was he thinking?”

 

“Stiles wasn’t the same when he left,” the sheriff said desperately, navigating the road like a madman. They were going to get pulled over if he didn’t stop driving like this, Derek thought vaguely through the needles. “And I don’t just mean like after the nogitsune, I mean he was _different._ It was almost like he forgot that he was just human after spending so much time with all of you. I’d say he had a death wish, but that’s not Stiles.”

 

“Stiles is loyal to his friends and those he loves,” Derek said certainly, knowing it was true even after his two year absence. “If he thought that he needed to prove that he was still of use to Scott, he would do anything. You know how much he cares about everyone.”

 

“Too much,” the sheriff replied grimly, and they fell silent.

 

Scott called Derek as the neared the outskirts of town. “His roommate said he didn’t come home last night, but that it’s not really unusual because he spends the night at the library a lot.” Scott spoke in a rush. “He isn’t in any of the places his roommate said to check. Deaton tried to scry, but it was a lot of gray. He couldn’t really get a good read. Apparently it can be hard with other magic users.”

 

Derek closed his eyes and focused on the feeling in his body, the prickling of his skin, the ache in his chest, the pressure on his wrists and ankles and…and in his head. Scott was talking in his ear, and Derek said, “Shut up, Scott.”

 

“But—”

 

“Hang on and let me focus!” Derek growled, and Scott fell silent on the other end of the line. The pressure in his head turned into a buzz, which slowly became a picture, and then several all at once. Underground…one door…almost completely dark, except for a tiny light in the corner that…

 

“I know where he is,” he said immediately. “There’s a place in downtown Chicago called Chaos that poses as a tattoo parlor. It’s where I got the triskelion and it was run by an omega when I went there. He was known by hunters but he hadn’t ever killed anyone, so the hunters in the area left him alone. Something might’ve changed.”

 

“We’re going,” Scott said, and hung up.

 

“Turn around,” Derek told the sheriff, and they pulled the most illegal U-turn Derek had ever seen in his life and sped back into Chicago.

 

**

 

The woman’s smile was feral as she walked out from behind the counter. “Derek Hale,” she said. “Not who I expected, but I’ll take it.”

 

Derek stumbled forward and wrapped his hand around her throat, claws out. “Where is he?” he demanded with as much strength as he could. The pain was building in his body, but he was angry enough that he could hardly feel it anymore. The sheriff stepped up and wrenched the hunter’s hands behind her back, cuffing them there.

 

She laughed recklessly. “You’re too late.”

 

The door opened again and Scott rushed in, followed by Malia and Liam. “Tell us where Stiles is, or I’ll start turning you and anyone else with you,” Scott said. “I know your code, I know what’ll happen to you if I do.”

 

“He’s as good as dead,” the woman rasped.

 

“If that’s the truth, then so are you,” Derek snarled in her face, watching the fear flash there. Malia brushed past him and stormed into the back room. A gun went off and then there was a yell and a loud thud. “Clear back here!” she called out. Liam touched Derek’s shoulder lightly. “I’ve got her,” he said, eyes gold, teeth elongated, but otherwise human. “Go.”

 

Derek turned and wrenched a floorboard up in the middle of the room, exposing a staircase. “It doesn’t matter,” the woman said softly. “He’s still going to die.”

 

Derek ignored her and descended with Scott at his heels.

 

“Fuck off,” a voice said hoarsely in the dark. Derek couldn’t stop himself from practically falling down the rest of the staircase and rushing forward to Stiles’ dim form, chained to the wall. He wordlessly cupped Stiles’ face in his hands and pressed his forehead to his, feeling the pain begin to waver as he started to take it away. His eyes were closed, but he felt Stiles’ eyelashes flutter against his skin.

 

“What did they do to you, Stiles?” Scott asked as he twisted a claw in the lock of a manacle.

 

“Scott…?”

 

“Yeah man, we’ve got you, but you have to tell us what they did to you,” Scott said urgently.

 

“Some strains of wolfsbane…don’t react well with magic,” Stiles murmured, slumping against Derek as Scott freed him. “My body…it’s fighting, but I can’t…I can’t keep this up for much longer.”

 

Derek scooped Stiles up into his arms before he could collapse to the ground. Scott was running back upstairs, presumably to get all the different kinds of wolfsbane he could find, and Derek lowered them both to the dirt floor. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but try to keep taking away the agony in Stiles’ veins, even as it echoed in his own body. Stiles moved just enough to tuck his head into the crook of Derek’s neck, and then he went limp, breathing shallowly while they waited.

 

**

 

It took almost half a day for the ashes to make their way through Stiles’ body once Liam injected it through the vein on the inside of his elbow. Derek cradled Stiles to his chest while spasms wracked through him, making tiny shushing noises when the pain broke through in the form of a low groan. Chris Argent was called, and he contacted the big family in Chicago for them. As it turned out, these hunters were rogues who threw out the code in favor of torturing werewolves for fun. Finding Stiles was a complete coincidence.

 

“They’ll be dealt with,” Chris promised Scott, who nodded and resumed his restless pacing back and forth across the floor. The sheriff sat next to Derek, holding his son’s hand in both of his own. He never tried to take Stiles away from Derek, for which he was pathetically grateful. He didn’t think he could let go of Stiles right now if he tried.

 

When Stiles fell still at last, all of the breath leaving him in a huff that Derek felt against his neck, Sheriff Stilinski squeezed his hand. “Did they do anything else to you?” he asked.

 

“No,” Stiles whispered. “No, just the wolfsbane.” He didn’t lift his head from where it was still resting on Derek’s shoulder, probably far too exhausted to try. Derek pushed his legs under himself and stood with Stiles in his arms. Scott made as if to take Stiles from Derek, but Stiles flinched at his touch. Scott pulled away, hurt flashing in his eyes.

 

The sheriff looked between them all, eyebrows furrowed. “Let’s go home,” he said finally, and together they made their way upstairs. Scott stopped to talk to the Chicago family in the parlor while Derek slid into the backseat of the sheriff’s car. He buckled Stiles in against the door and then sat in the middle himself, Stiles curling in towards him until his head was back in the crook of Derek’s neck.

 

Liam slid into the front seat, twisting around to look at the two of them. “I told Scott not to send him away,” he said quietly. “I tried to make Stiles stay. He’s the one who taught me how to find an anchor, remember? I didn’t want him to leave.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, sniffling a little. “God, he’s never looked so small before.”

 

Sheriff Stilinski put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “You did all you could, son.”

 

“I should’ve realized something was wrong.” Liam’s eyes flashed for a second. “He’s part of the pack, why didn’t we feel anything? We wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t called, Derek. How did _you_ know?”

 

Derek shook his head. “I don’t know.” He could hardly focus on anything other than the weight of Stiles against his side. “Does Lydia know what happened?” He had to change the subject to avoid thinking about it all.

 

“Yeah, I called her earlier,” Liam said, still looking intently at Stiles.

 

The sheriff turned to Liam. “What are you going to tell your teachers about missing school?”

 

“Mason took care of it,” Liam said. “Said I had a family emergency.”

 

“And your parents?”

 

“The truth.” Liam looked at the sheriff incredulously. “You think I’d just go off without telling them?”

 

“Isn’t that exactly what you did when we went to Mexico?” Derek reminded him.

 

“That was different.” Liam waved a hand. “They didn’t know about all of this then.”

  
Sheriff Stilinski sighed.

 

They drove through the night rather than risk an airport, unable to think of a good excuse as to why Stiles appeared comatose. Liam switched with the sheriff when the sun was rising again. No one asked Derek if he wanted to drive; Stiles was clinging to him in the sleep he had settled into around three in the morning. Derek finally fell asleep himself when the sun climbed fully into the sky, nose pressed into Stiles’ hair.

 

**

 

Sheriff Stilinski insisted that Derek stay with them. “If it weren’t for you…”

 

“You don’t owe me anything,” Derek tried to tell him.

 

“This isn’t about owing you,” the sheriff said sternly. “I think Stiles will benefit from you being here. And honestly, I’m pretty sure you don’t want him out of your sight.”

 

Derek ducked his head, unable to argue with that.

 

The sheriff laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Call me if you need anything. Melissa will be by in a little while to check up on him.” He smoothed his hand through Stiles’ hair and left them alone.

 

Derek sat down heavily on the side of the bed and put his face in his hands. The last few days were settling into his bones like an ache and all he wanted to do was lie down next to Stiles and sleep for a week. Maybe longer, if he could get away with it. But he had to call Cora and let him know he was okay, and then he had to wait for Melissa, and if Stiles needed anything…

 

“I thought you weren’t real,” Stiles whispered. Derek jerked so hard he nearly fell off the bed. Stiles was blinking at him slowly. “Thought it was the wolfsbane, making me see things.” He shifted under the covers like he wanted to sit up and Derek put a hand on his chest to stop him. “You’re supposed to be in South America,” Stiles said almost accusingly.

 

“I haven’t been there in awhile,” Derek said in a low voice. “I was with Cora in D.C.”

 

“So what’re you doing here?”

 

Derek didn’t answer. “Move over,” he said instead, sliding under the covers and gently pushing at Stiles until they fit comfortably. Stiles gazed at him for a long moment, eyes darting all over his face. Derek waited patiently, didn’t flinch when Stiles brushed his fingers over Derek’s cheek and then rested them solidly to his chest, hand curled in a loose fist.

 

“You’re different,” Stiles mumbled, eyes slipping shut.

  
“Good or bad?” Derek wrapped a hand around Stiles’.

 

“I don’t know yet.” Stiles was relaxing bit by bit as he fell back into an exhausted sleep. Derek wasn’t far behind.

 

**

 

He woke briefly to Melissa taking Stiles’ vitals and asking him questions about what had happened. “Go back to sleep, Derek,” she murmured when she noticed, so he did.


End file.
